Advantage Played
by magratj
Summary: . He'd never admit that he found the idea of Sara playing what appeared to be such a physical sport highly alluring and mildly erotic. GSR.


Title: Advantage Played

Author: magratj

Rating: T for minor language

Disclaimer: CSI and all associated peoples belong to CBS

Summary: Getting a life had been an accident, really.

Notes: Inspired by a similar fall at one of my games.

It had all started by accident, really. Because she'd been tired.

They'd been at a sport complex to arrest their suspect in a triple rape case. They knew it was him - the DNA had proved it.

But Grissom had seen how tired she was, and when she asked if she could go straight home rather than back to the lab, he agreed, telling her that he'd take care of the report. She'd decided to take five minutes before driving though, and sat down to watch what she thought was going to be a basketball game.

It wasn't.

Intrigued, she watched the game. After a while, someone sat down next to her.

"You don't look like you're playing," the newcomer said.

"Ah, no. I'm not even sure what I'm watching."

"Netball. Massive sport in Australia, New Zealand and the West Indies. Pretty big in England and Canada too, I think. I'm Miriam, by the way."

"Sara."

Miriam spent the rest of the game explaining the rules of a game developed as 'women's basketball', but which was proving to be every bit as combative. She explained positions and rules as members of her team showed up, and either joined them in watching the game, or began stretching and warming up.

"We're one short," Tina, a tall blonde, said. "Jenny's pulled out, and Sharon got called in to work."

"I hate playing one down," Kim, the youngest member of the team, said. "I have to play both."

Miriam turned and looked at Sara. "Reckon you could play a game?"

"Oh, I don't know. . . I'm kinda unfit."

"We'll put you in shooter. You only have a third to play in. Just get the ball to Tina or take a shot, as long as you're in the circle. It's only the first game of the season, so we've no idea about how we'll be doing, and Tina's our only real shooter anyway."

Sara thought about it for a moment. "My gym bag is in the car. I'll go get it."

She had started slow, pulled up for more than a few infringements. Watching Tina had helped, but she didn't quite have the skill level to imitate her moves completely. However, none of this seemed to matter - she could shoot.

They were an eclectic team. A couple of housewives, two students, shift workers, and Miriam, who worked part time as a youth counsellor. Kim was perhaps the most serious of the players. A student at UNLV, she played her 'serious' comp on Wednesday nights, and used the day game for fitness and to improve her technique.

Kim, Miriam and Tina helped over the next few weeks. She learnt techniques and strategy, and felt comfortable taking the more aggressive role of goal attack. She had researched her newfound sport on the web, discovering a chat room on an Australian site. There she had made contact with a self confessed netball obsessed teenager from Brisbane, who offered Sara copies of taped games from both the Australian national competition and an international match between Australia and New Zealand, two teams that had been throwing the title of World Champions across the Tasman Sea for numerous years. Sara had devoured the tapes, (although there had been problems getting a format that could be played on American machines – something about different systems), learning everything she could.

Not only did her fitness improve, she slept better. And she suddenly found herself with more of a social life. Lunch after the game, then nutri-metics parties, dinners, movies and even the occasional children's birthday party. Her team-mates welcomed her into the fold, and even their friends had taken a shine to her, her work making her something of a must-have guest. For the first time in a while, Sara looked forward to leaving the lab. And she never mentioned Grissom to her new friends as anything other than her boss.

In fact, while with them, she rarely even thought of him.

Oddly enough, the change in her attitude had gone relatively unnoticed in the lab. If she wasn't in court, or on a case that couldn't wait, she wasn't at the lab. The assumption was that she had finally been able to back off, perhaps even found someone worth leaving the lab for. Grissom, naturally, hadn't made any such assumption, but didn't have the courage to ask what distraction she had found. He was too scared to.

In fact, if it weren't for that dammed fall, no one would've found out at all.

They'd made the semi-final, and the team they had to play off against was perhaps the bitchiest team in the competition. Kim and Sharon were having far too much fun subtly pushing their slightly volatile opponents into making stupid mistakes. Netball, Sara had realised early on, was a non-contact sport in the way North Korea was democratic - in name only.

She'd missed the shot, and had immediately jumped for the rebound. Unfortunately, she'd miscalculated the position of her opponent and colliding with her, before ungracefully rebounding off her, and hitting the ground hard. Almost immediately, her wrist stung, but realising the penalty was hers, she brushed it aside, getting up to move out of play, as the rules demanded of her.

Afterwards, when they were safely through to the final, she went home, thankful she drove an automatic, and put an ice pack on it - the swelling minimal, but painful.

As a result, there had been no help for it but to go into work with her wrist heavily strapped and bound, and some ibuprofen to dull the pain.

She hadn't been able to sleep for too long either, so had found herself at work early. So, naturally, Grissom had been the first to spot her padded hand.

"What happened?" he asked, concerned.

"I fell," she replied, futilely hoping she wouldn't have to explain any further.

Grissom, while not believing the scuttlebutt that Sara had met someone, felt a gnawing in his stomach as he noticed her avoidance of the question, fear that someone had hurt her.

"Fell where?" he asked, more demanding.

"At Netball."

"Netball? Developed as women?" he asked absently, his eyes on her hand as he delicately took it in his, turning it in his.

Sara simply nodded. "I've been playing for a few months. I misjudged a jump and landed on my opponent, and then on the ground.

"How bad?"

"I got ice on it quickly, but it's still a little swollen. And sore."

"Did you bandage this yourself?"

"Yeah - it's kinda hard with one hand."

"I'll redo it for you." he offered leading her into his office. "Did you win?" he asked.

"Yeah – grand final next week," she said with a smile.

He sat her down, and brought his chair out from behind his desk to sit opposite her. Gently, he began to remove the bandage she had clumsily applied.

"Are you going to be okay to work tonight?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm still on the O'Leary case, so I'll be in the lab all night, and I'm working Warwick, so he can handle anything I can't."

"Stay in the lab, and if it gets too much, let me know, and I'll take you home, okay?"

His generous gesture caught her by surprise, but she nodded her answer. "I'll be fine."

"I mean it Sara," he said seriously. "You're not much good to me if you're in any kind of pain."

He didn't say anything else as he carefully examined her hand. His feather-light touched both chilled and warmed her to the absolute core as his fingers gently traced the outline of the yellow bruises that were forming. Then just as suddenly, he stopped, and began to re-strap the injured limb.

He didn't speak to her much for the rest of the night. Just checked on the progress of the case a couple of times, and, when there was no one else around, softly asked how she was doing. Other than that, nothing seemed different.

Over the next few days, by unspoken agreement, Sara mostly stayed in the lab unless it was absolutely necessary. Grissom seemed content to let her set her own pace, and only once voiced his concern that she was pushing herself.

What she didn't know was how much Grissom was actually keeping an eye on her. He'd had a quiet word with the others, explaining that she had fallen, but not where or how, and asked them to respect her privacy, while keeping an eye on her and helping her out if necessary. If they found his request weird, they didn't tell him. He also did a little research of his own on the game that had captivated her attention.

He found himself engrossed by the idea. He'd never admit that he found the idea of Sara playing what appeared to be such a physical sport highly alluring and mildly erotic. He told himself that it was only mild curiosity that had him working out where she was playing. A few calls to various sport centres, and a quick look back over her work hours for the last couple of months and he was able to pinpoint where and when she was playing in her final.

Before she left the lab that morning, he asked her if she was playing, unsure if her arm had healed enough to allow her to play. She assured him that she'd be fine, and that if it proved too much, she'd sit out half the game. After she had left, he sat for a while in his office, trying to work out exactly why it was that he wanted to go and watch her play, and reminding himself of all the reasons why he shouldn't.

It was proving to be a tight game, with goals going with the centre for the first five minutes. Sara's aim was on, and she paid little attention to the throbbing pain in her wrist. The focus and determination she had always applied to her work and studies was now firmly directed on the task at hand. So when she caught a glimpse of him, sitting on the sidelines, apparently talking to Miriam's husband, she was completely thrown.

Grissom had sat back from the court, wildly hoping that she wouldn't notice him – he didn't think that he'd be able to explain his presence to her. A couple of minutes later, another man sat down next to him.

"Red or white?" the stranger asked.

"I'm sorry?" Grissom asked, his attention still on Sara.

"You going for the red or white team?" the man asked again.

"Red," he supplied.

"Excellent. I won't be accused of consorting with the enemy. I'm Ted – Miriam's husband."

"Miriam?"

"The goal defence," Ted said, indicating where Miriam was currently standing.

"Ah. Gil Grissom. I, uh. Work with Sara. She's, the, uh,"

"Oh, Sara, yes. The girls are quite proud of finding her, you know. Tine reckons she's got about a ninety per cent success rate. I'm glad there's another guy here."

"You come to watch often?"

"This be the first time since we've been here. We lived in Australia for a couple of years, which is where Mim learnt to play. I used to go to her games a lot there. I've had some major problems at work recently, and Mim's been fantastic in terms of her support, so I figured I'd take the day off and give her my support for once. You?"

"When I found out Sara was playing, I was curious."

"You work with her? At the crime lab? Mim says she tells the most fascinating stories.

"Sara's one of our best," Grissom conceded.

"Damn – that was a bad miss," Ted's attention had turned back to the game. "She doesn't seem to be on the ball today."

Damn him!

How dare he show up here, forcing himself into what was her place, her time, her thing. What exactly did he think he was doing? She was furious with him. Why was he here? Did he have to ruin everything for her? Every chance of happiness she had ever chased since arriving here, he had personally been responsible for destroying. Hell, she doubted that he was even aware of it, and that was what annoyed her the most.

Watching from her position as wing attack, Kim saw the change in Sara's game the moment she had noticed the man sitting with Ted. Kim often came across as loud and brash, but she was a keen observer of people. She knew Sara avoided the topic of relationships, and she knew there was a reason for it. Pieces clicked into place for her, and she realised with an amazing clarity why Sara had just missed three easy attempts at goal.

"Sidle!" she called. "Don't you dare tell me that a _guy_ _is _affecting your performance!"

Sara looked at her sharply, then shook her head. "I'm good." she called back.

"You'd better be." Kim crossed to where Sara was standing, as play moved to the other end of the court, and spoke to Sara more softly. "Ignore him Sara. And DON'T go to him at half time. He's not going to be able to give you any answer in two minutes that will satisfy you."

Sara nodded, knowing that she couldn't afford to think about Grissom if she wanted to win. And she really wanted to win.

At half time, the team huddled, discussing their strategy. Ted seemed a little concerned.

"They're down a goal, and the other team has possession at the start of the next half."

"It's only one point," Grissom argued.

"True," Ted agreed. "But it's kind of like being down a break in tennis – not the end, just makes the game tougher."

Grissom watched as the girls huddled around their drinks, and began swapping the tags they wore.

"Why are they swapping?" he asked Ted, as Sara and Tina changed positions.

"Fresh legs," Ted supplied. "Sara can ease back a little now, get herself into a good position in the circle. Tina can do the running around.

The siren sounded again, and the players made their way back on court, a couple yelling out encouragement to their teammates.

Sara moved to the end of court where Grissom and Ted sat. As she waited for play to start, she turned and looked at Grissom. He smiled what he hoped was an encouraging smile at her, but her expression remained bland, and she turned her attention back to the game.

"Did you piss her off at some point?" Ted asked with a smile.

"I have a record of doing so," Grissom admitted.

Ted laughed. "Did she know you were coming today?"

"No – if she hadn't hurt her wrist, I'd never have known she played.

"Ah," Ted said knowingly, a sudden clarity dawning in him. "I think that – oh, beautiful Kim!" his musing was interrupted by a brilliant intercept, and Grissom breathed easier when attention turned back to the game.

Sara didn't miss a shot in that second half. The defence stepped up too, giving them an edge, and eventually they pulled away to a three goal lead. Still, Grissom held his breath every shot that Sara took, and couldn't let himself relax until the siren sounded, and Sara's team had won by two points.

Ted jumped up excitedly, and ran over to Miriam to hug her. Grissom simply stayed were he was, not sure of his next move.

Sara was ecstatic. She had never before won a sporting competition, and the relief and elation she felt was a completely new sensation. Kim ran up to her, and jumped on her back, wrapping her arms around Sara.

"Way to go, Sidle! Awesome shooting!"

"Not too bad yourself, Kim."

Kim slid down, when Miriam walked up Sara.

"Well played – I'm glad you stuck around," she said.

"I enjoyed it – I'm glad you asked me to play."

"Ted says that's your boss watching," Miriam said softly..

"Yeah, it is."

"Ted says he's in love with you."

"Ted doesn't know what he's talking about," Sara said defensively.

"Sure he does," Kim said. "The only time all year your shooting has been off is when a guy turns up. He unsettles you. Speaks volumes Sidle."

"Do you guys mind?" Sara asked, exasperated.

"Guys – meet you at the Oasis for celebratory drinks!" Tina called out from the sideline.

"Am so there!" Kim called out. "Talk to him Sidle. Or at the very least, jump him."

Sara dawdled her way off the court, lagging behind Miriam and Kim. She picked up her bag and water bottle and walked over to Grissom. She briefly entertained the idea of ignoring him, and leaving him sitting there, but she just as quickly dismissed it. She dropped her bag and sat down next to him.

"Enjoy the game?" she asked.

"It was very enlightening. Not like basketball at all," Grissom responded.

She laughed. "Yeah, totally different."

They sat in silence for a moment, while she waited in vain for him to give her something.

Finally she gave him. "Why are you here, Grissom?"

"I wanted to see you play," he answered simply.

"Why?" she challenged.

"The truth?"

"Yes"

"I couldn't get the thought of you playing a sport out of my head. I had to see you."

"Why?"

"You captivate me. Completely."

Sara let out a rush of air. "God Grissom. How am I supposed to respond to that?"

"I don't know, Sara."

She turned to him, and reached out, caressing his cheek. "You do this to yourself, you know. It doesn't have to be this way."

"I know."

She sighed, and decided to take Kim's advice. She leant in, slowly, giving him time to panic, before gently, softly, pressing her lips to his, and tenderly kissed him. He surrendered to her, as he had always known he would. Her feelings towards him had always been apparent to him, and as he had always suspected, she overwhelmed him with her amazing selflessness as she gave all that she had to him.

Finally, she broke off, and smiled slyly at him.

"Want to join us for a drink? I'm sure Ted would appreciate the male company."

"Sure." He stood up, and held out his hand to her. "Maybe I can take you out for a celebratory dinner afterwards?"

Sara grinned at him, taking his hand, and allowing him to pull her up. She didn't let go of his hand, but walked with him out of the sport centre.

"Maybe," she said, nudging his shoulder with hers.

"Maybe?"

"Depends on where you're going to take me," she grinned impishly.

He stopped, and pulled her to face him. "Does it matter?" he asked, before this time initiating the kiss himself.

"Hmm, not really."

Fin


End file.
